


Hold Your Breath, and Count to Ten

by HurricanesatDawn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (kiss with a fist), It started out with a kiss, M/M, and it went a little something like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricanesatDawn/pseuds/HurricanesatDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is, by far, the best game they’ve ever played together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Your Breath, and Count to Ten

There are these moments of absolute calm that sometimes take over a person. Where the mind is shut down, consumed left and left to dry. It could be called shock. An instinctual inability to process something horrific, or just painful, when a person can’t understand and rationalise the situation. 

It’s a moment like this, so easily seen. The way Sebastian went calm in an instant, his anger first melting, the unadulterated fury draining from his body. His hands had been shaking with the need to destroy, to break something down into the smallest pieces possible. He’d wanted to smash, ruin, and taint with blood.

But it’s gone now. Just like the emotions that followed it, the look of betrayal in his eyes, and the mirror of things crashing down on his head like a bucket of water. Tears had stung his eyes, and he’d blinked them back, controlling himself.

The calm was the most startling part. He’d frozen, and every feeling had visibly drained from his body. His muscles _— previously tense, hands clenched into fists, jaw tight —_  had pulled together, and then melted away, falling into what look liked a perfect state of relaxation. There was nothing in his eyes, for a few seconds. His mind appeared empty. Like he’d never been upset in the first place.

It could almost be seen now. That look in his eyes that said, ‘Why did I care?’ and it’s clear that he doesn’t. Not like he did before. It’s not just ceased to matter. It’s _…gone._

His eyes look dried up, like the way one might imagine the water on a shore receding to make way for a giant wave. He looks empty, even as he twists his neck unnaturally, staring at Jim.

All it inspires is a feeling of contempt for the man. Sebastian looks disgusting like this. This isn’t the way he’s supposed to be, or even gets to be. This is Jim’s territory, and Sebastian is playing with things he doesn’t understand.

It makes Jim’s lips twist up scornfully, into what he’s sure is a smarmy look, his eyes darkening the way they do so naturally. He can’t feel anything but disgust for Sebastian right now, and he doesn’t hesitate to let it show.

His neck seems to undulate, twitching back and forth as he stares, letting every hint of viciousness echo in his gaze.

Sure enough, something flickers in Sebastian’s eyes. Not fury, but a twisting up of his gut, that Jim can easily read. He wants to laugh. This is something he loves, this is something for which he’s famous.

Even just the way he stands is designed to anger Sebastian. The way he leans against the wall as if without a care in the world. Like it doesn’t matter, like nothing _— Sebastian included —_  matters. Like he has the right to treat Sebastian however he wishes.

Which he does. Sebastian is his. He can do what he likes, and the man will always hesitate before trying to walk away from it. It’s not the point. It’s never the point.

“Seb _assss-tiaaan,”_  he purrs, the name tasting like silk on his tongue. He bites his lip, staring up at the man through dark eyelashes. “Seb _assssssss-tian…_  Are you going to come out and pl _aaaaaay_  with  _meee?_  Oh, pretty  _pleeeease._  Won’t you come out _siiiide?”_

He can see it, the way Sebastian’s eyes darken, and he knows they must match now. The man is still calm, still reserved and keeping himself under control, but the muscle in his jaw twitches, giving himself away before he even speaks a syllable. “Something you wanted, Jim?” he asks; and he sounds tired. So very tired.

“We _-ell,_  I dun _-no…”_  trailing off, Jim cocks his head, pushing himself gracefully off from the wall. He walks slowly, hips swaying back and forth as he shortens the distance between them, coming to a stop right in front of Sebastian. With a gentle smile, he lifts a hand, stroking along Sebastian’s jaw with the back of it. His touch is gentle, almost loving, and he releases a purring noise of his own.  “You could say  _tha-_ at… I _allll_ ways want something from yo _-ou.”_

The line of Sebastian’s throat betrays him as he swallows, and Jim can almost see the way he forces his shoulders to not shake. He wants to say ‘fuck you’, and it’s almost as clear in the air as if he actually does.

He twists his head a little, hand moving up to take Jim’s in a vise grip. Slowly, he pulls it away from touching his face. It makes Jim click his teeth together in displeasure, more than conscious of how their knuckles are starting to go white, the blood draining from the pressure.

In a way, he feels just as numb as Sebastian does, the only real difference in the way it’s not forced. Sebastian has to cling to it, pretending it’s still there, and that it comes as naturally to him as it does to Jim.

But it doesn’t, and it’s slowly fading from his body much in the same way his anger had before it.

_‘Just a little bit more and…’_  he doesn’t finish the thought.

“Does p _uuuu_ ppy have a _buh-_ ite?” ignoring the way it makes his wrist twist painfully around, he presses himself forward, until he’s plastered against Sebastian’s body, rocking him backwards. It’s uncomfortable, and hurts more than a little, but worth it to bite a kiss into the man’s lips.

It brings a growl forward, and Sebastian releases his hand to shove him, knocking him down a crouch on the ground. For a second, the sudden, sharp burning in his wrist makes him think Sebastian might have broken it _— or at least damaged it somehow._

His eyes glisten at the thought, and he stares eagerly up at the man, his teeth bared antagonistically. _“Arf, arf,”_  he murmurs, pushing himself up on shaky legs, feeling along his wrist as he stands. “Is that _allll_  you’ve got?”

It’s enough to bring another growl from Sebastian, and he takes a step forward, looking like he might start circling around Jim. It’s cute.

“…I’m tired, Jim,” he says, shoving Jim backwards until he’s pressed against the wall, his spine arching in delight at the way it hurts. “Don’t fuck with me.”

Jim gasps, cooing as he wraps his arms around Sebastian’s neck, nuzzling against his face. “But sweetheart…” his tongue flicks out, licking kittenishly around Sebastian’s jaw, tracing the line of stubble. “What if I want to  _fuck you?”_

Another shove.

His head knocks unpleasantly against the wall, making Jim’s ears ring and the edges of his vision go black for a moment.

He opens his eyes, lips still parted as he stares. “Is that a no?” he asks innocently, batting his eyelashes.

“That’s a  _‘fuck off, Jim’,”_  and there it is. The words Sebastian’s been holding back this entire time.

Feeling triumphant, Jim’s eyes sparkle, and he doesn’t hold in the delighted grin that splits his face. “Th _eeeeeere_  it is,” and back comes the way he draws out some of his vowels, sounding childish and spiteful at the same time. “Come ah _-onn,_  you know you want it. You can take _aaaaanything_  you l _iiiike.”_

He does mean that, in a way. He’s not exactly in much of a position to fight, his good wrist weakened, and his knife all the way on the other side of the room. “Don’t you want to… _raaaavage_  me, baby?” he asks, dragging his tongue across his teeth. “You could do it, you know. Have me however you want.” 

Even Sebastian can’t deny the way the suggestion makes him swallow, grimacing at the mental picture of a fucked out Jim being shoved repeatedly against the wall; and, hell, Jim can appreciate the sight just as much as the next bloke.

Another shove.

This time it’s harder, and he can’t breathe for a second, the air forced out of his lungs. “Is that it?” he purrs, eyes widening, once he can speak again. “Do you want to str _aaaangle_  me? You seem to l _iii_ ke it so much, seeing me like this.”

Jerking his body forward, he presses himself against Sebastian again, moving his hands to place the man’s on his body. One goes to his hip, the other to his shoulder, and he smiles. “Is that what you’d like?” he bares his throat, pushing the material of his shirt away to show how pristine his skin looks. There isn’t a mark on it.

“Think about it, puppy,” he mumbles, a hand placed in Sebastian’s hair just for a few seconds, encouraging him to look. “Think about the marks of your hand there making me…” he doesn’t finish, leaving the rest up to the imagination.

The calm has left Sebastian’s body entirely now. He can see as the last traces of it disintegrate, feel the way his fingers clench, nails digging into Jim’s skin. It hurts, just a little.

Sebastian’s lips curl as he breathes harshly. He doesn’t shove this time, at least not as hard, more reminding Jim of his place against the wall, panting against his cheek. “D’ya wan’ i’, then?” he’s starting to slur, his voice struggling to retain his hard-earned proper enunciation. He doesn’t care how it sounds anymore.

He kisses the edge of Jim’s jaw, lips pressing their way down, ending when he bites the junction of the man’s neck.

It makes Jim’s eyes widen, a little bit more than he’d like to admit, biting back a groan. Sebastian’s teeth are sharp, and he can feel the blood rising to the surface of his face, and maybe a little is leaking from him now.

He opens his mouth, about to say something, but it’s forced out of him with an  _‘oof’;_  and he’s jerked away, the grip Sebastian has on him tightening as he’s more carried than walked into the middle of the room.

Lips move, just a little, teeth harsh as they find a new place to bite. This time Jim knows for certain that he’s bleeding, feeling the way Sebastian’s lips suck it back up, his tongue dancing across the man’s skin.

The force with which he’s thrown again is a little startling, and he can’t catch himself, torn from Sebastian’s arms to land twisted onto his arm on the floor.

He hears a crack when he lands, and it makes him wince, just a tiny bit.

His wrist is broken.

“That does huh _-urt,_  you know…”

“It’s supposed to.”

Jim grins. It’s more difficult to stand again with only one hand, but he does, pushing himself up, brushing the imaginary dirt off his clothes. “We _-eak,”_  he taunts, letting the hand fall limp, more focused on his neck. He arches it, feeling along it gently with his fingers, lip between his teeth. “Does it look  _pretty,_  at least?” he asks, taking one step forward.

It turns out that he doesn’t have to go any further, when Sebastian moves forward quickly. He counters it, eyes flicking to the table as he retreats backwards, changing his mind about where he wants to go.

“Oh, Jimmy… Are you going to run from me now?” he snarls, cracking his knuckles, one hand at a time. His pace has slowed down, until it’s more like he’s stalking a wild animal. “I’m disappointed in you.”

It’s amusing, in a way, and Jim can’t help but think that this is how the tiger must have felt. Strong, powerful, dangerous, and being advanced on by Sebastian, slowly worn down until he could attack it, shove the knife into its throat.

His own throat pulses, and he swallows, a phantom pain. He half wonders if Sebastian would take the time to skin him, like he did the tiger. Maybe take his nails and teeth as a trophy.

Sebastian takes a step to the side now, moving to circle around Jim for real this time, and he can feel his heart beating in his chest. It doesn’t help that he’s more than just a bit hard from all this, but he’d hesitate to mention it, no matter how obvious it’s sure to be.

He turns, making sure not to let Sebastian at his back, fearing a little what might happen if he leaves himself unguarded.

“You look scared…” is all Sebastian says, and he laughs, the sound a little more off than normal.

“Do I?” he glances at the door.

The man must know he’s being taunted still, it’s so very obvious, but he doesn’t give it away. He’s thriving in this, in every action or even hint of a movement Jim makes, and without the slightest bit of effort, he’s keeping up.

This is, by far, the best game they’ve ever played together.

“Yeah,” Sebastian breathes, his head cocked to the side. He looks like he’s actually curious, but the veil on his eyes doesn’t give way. His mouth has morphed into something that Jim’s never had directed at him before, and it’s an incredibly promising sight. “Aren’ ya gonna hit m’back, kitten?” and it’s his turn to purr, to send a shiver down Jim’s spine.

“Should I?”

“S’no fun if’n yer a punchin’ bag…”

Without hesitation, Jim throws himself forward, knowing full well that Sebastian will see it coming. He knocks the man to the ground, kneeing him in the groin as he climbs atop, hand limp as he fights his way into Sebastian’s mouth.

Within a second, he can taste blood, Sebastian’s teeth latching and biting back against his mouth, giving back as good as he’s getting. The copper stings, and he groans, jaw threatening to slacken from the taste.

It’s from there that Sebastian takes his advantage back, hooking around Jim’s smaller body to roll them around on the floor.

His hands end up held above his head, mouth being molested and the cry swallowed from the back of his throat at the jerk of his wrist. It fucking hurts, but the pressure of Sebastian’s body makes it better, makes him arch up to rub as much of himself off against the man above him.

He whines at the teeth, growing louder when they pull away, and he’s left struggling to get at Sebastian’s mouth again.

It’s cut off with a smack.

His head jerks, and he gasps, lip splitting at the force from Sebastian’s hand. Tongue flicking out, he laps away the blood, panting up at Sebastian.

He’s utterly vulnerable like this, and they both know it.

In Sebastian’s eyes, he knows he can see how stunning he must look like this. Ruffled, held down, clothing askew, blood on his face, sex hair, all of it works together. Sebastian’s not the first man to want him like this, but he is the first one to bring Jim to a place like this, without ending up dead on the floor.

“Bit romantic, isn’t it?” he asks, pushing his head up as much as he can, trying to brush his cheek against Sebastian’s. “Better than a candlelight dinner and _\- fuck!”_

Sebastian cuts him off, digging fingers into Jim’s bad wrist, drawing tears to his eyes. It fucking hurts, and for a second, he can’t breathe.

Before he can recover himself, Sebastian’s mouth takes his again, sucking every bit of air from between his lips. Kissing Sebastian has always been a bit like being outside in a storm. When he lets himself go, there’s nothing to hold him back, and he slams everything he has against you. But this is more than that. He doesn’t know what it is, but it isn’t just anything.

Just as he’s starting to get used to the pace of the kiss _— if it could even be properly called that —_  Sebastian’s pulling back again, and his head is forced back into an unnatural twist. His cheek stings, and the pain in his nose is overwhelming for a second or two.

The force of Sebastian’s fist isn’t enough to make his nose bleed, but it does feel like it might be broken, or at least fractured.

He swallows, staring up now, his lips parted and his body frozen. There’s still blood drying on his lips, and Sebastian sneers at him.

“No’ s’tough now, are ya?”

“Depends…” he has to swallow and wet his lips, trying again. “It depends on your definition of tough, really.” His eyes drift shut for a moment, and he lets a lazy smile fall over his lips, mocking Sebastian.

Sure enough, it makes the man growl, low, and somehow deeper than before, letting go of Jim’s hands to latch onto his shoulders. He seems to crawl off, legs moving to bracket around his sides, jerking Jim forward and dragging him along the carpet by his shoulders.

There’s isn’t a crack, but something twists in his shoulder, and a burning sensation fills his torso as he’s shoved up harder than he’d like.

He lets his hands drift, letting one fall onto Sebastian’s shoulder to pet at him. “You’re the one that thinks you’re tough…” he giggles, twisting his neck, dragging his jaw open for a grin tainted by the blood dribbled across his teeth and lips. “Beating up someone smaller than you…”

Sebastian hisses, pushing off Jim’s hand with a whack of his own, and it doesn’t break, too, but it hurts as it slams into the ground. “…my point exactly.” He can’t even remember when he opened his eyes, and his head feels like it’s slowing everything down, but he doesn’t mind all that much. It means it’s easier to not wince.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, darling,” he moans, more dramatic than necessary, and the sound seems to echo between them a bit. “I wish you would. I really do.”

“Oh? D’ya? Well, tha’ kin’ be ‘rranged.” It’s as if Sebastian thinks he’ll regret saying it, the man’s eyes glinting dangerously as he tears at Jim’s clothes, ripping them in his hurry to get him naked.

He doesn’t stop until all Jim has left on are his trousers, and those are a bit torn as well. He lowers his head to the man’s chest, not holding himself back as he forces his teeth to cut through skin, drawing blood to the surface.

It hurts.

It makes Jim cry out, just a bit, and he writhes, trying to wiggle out from under Sebastian.

For some reason, it seems to work, and after a second’s delay, he’s been tugged to his feet, pushed in the direction of the nearest wall.

He stumbles as he’s let go, falling front first against it, unfortunately in just the right way so he’s putting pressure on his wrist. It makes it so he doesn’t see what comes next before it happens.

Sebastian kicks at his ankles, growling darkly as he grabs at Jim’s waist, throwing him forward first once, then again and again, until the man is too dizzy to keep count.

He coughs, blood filling his mouth, and he has to choke it back before it dribbles out onto his floor.

Teeth force their way back into his neck, and he groans, his good hand latching backwards onto Sebastian’s to hold him there. It feels good, an easier pain, and he likes it, no matter how much he hates it when the marks are above the surface of his collar. It’s not like it matters.

He doesn’t really have it left to care how loudly he whimpers when Sebastian smashes his good wrist into the wall, and he has to mentally check it off as being  _‘the good one’,_  replacing it with, _‘both are useless now’._ He could growl about that, get angry, but he’s too tired to care, and his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.

He doesn’t even remember letting his eyes drift shut, not realising until they open, and he’s staring into Sebastian’s eyes again.

If they weren’t enough to make him shiver before, they are now. There’s something different there, or maybe he just didn’t recognise it before. But Sebastian genuinely doesn’t care at this point.

The way he purrs is instinctual. He wants to rub himself against Sebastian’s body now _— and suddenly he remembers that he’s hard, that this is fun, and his erection hasn’t started flagging once —_  purring and cooing as the man hurts him.

“Aren’ ya gonna say an’thin’?” Sebastian demands, hot and heavy in his face, and he has to blink to get the man to come into focus.

“What…” he heaves out, swallowing, “do you want me to say? Fuck me, Sebbie?” His eyes close again, and he smiles. “My body aches because of you? Can you see how hard I am? Do you care? Will you care?”

The meaning of his words drift unspoken between them, cut of when he laughs, and he can feel the blood on his chin.  _“Want me to say that I love you, baby?”_  he whispers, cracked out with a chuckle, watching through cracked open eyelids.

It’s enough to set him off again. 

There’s a second before a reaction happens, where Sebastian is frozen, and for the length of it, Jim thought the calm might have come back.

But then it’s there again, the fury, the inability to control himself.

Sebastian’s lips slam against his, and somehow, a fist punches its way into his shoulder.

He screams against the man’s mouth, unable to hold it in, feeling as the bone is forced out of alignment. It hurts so fucking bad, and he’s left sobbing into Sebastian’s mouth, hands around his head as his tongue is sucked on and bitten.

_But fuck does it feel good._

It’s easy to lose a few seconds  _— or maybe it’s a full minute —_  but the next things he knows, he’s against a different wall, with a different view, and there’s a different sort of pain bubbling up in his chest. 

He can’t breathe but shallowly, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a few of his ribs have been cracked. He doesn’t remember it happening, and that’s enough to say that the pain must have been enough to knock him out, just for a little. 

It’s almost scary. But it isn’t.

Sebastian’s mouth is missing from his, and he misses those lips, pouting as he gasps for air, trying not to focus on the burning sensation that seems to be slowly creeping along every area of his body.

It must have been pretty to see happening, and he mourns the loss.

“C’mon…” he coughs, not really sure for what he’s asking. He just fucking wants something, anything.

He gets it, in the form of his head being knocked against the wall for what must be the dozenth time.

_‘Oh,’_  he thinks in sudden realisation.  _‘That explains the… The fuzzy.’_

He’s concussed.

He smiles lazily, fond, but too out of it to summon words of some sort to finish his sentence aloud or even in his head.

There’s two Sebastians staring at him now, the perfect mirrors of one another, and he gurgles something, wanting to reach out and touch them.

The Sebastians say something, but he can’t hear it, the ringing in his ears too loud now, and his eyes fall shut.

It’s nice in the dark.

He hears a thump, and it takes a few seconds to register. 

Then there’s pain.

He opens his eyes and looks down as best he can, at Sebastian’s shoe still pressed against his leg from where he’d smashed it.

_‘That’s nice,’_  he thinks, and it must be broken now, too.

He’d try to count the amount of bits of him that are broken now, but he doesn’t think he could keep track, and Sebastian would probably do his best to skew the numbers by adding more before he’s finished.

The amusing thing is that at this point, he’s too far gone to remember where this all started or why. He can hardly remember why he’s up against the wall, his sagging body only held up by Sebastian’s hands, and his head jerking continuously as he resists falling unconscious.

“Seb…” he forces out after a second, and then the other one disappears. He can see better now, and it’s just the one Sebastian, looking funny as he stares at Jim dispassionately. The man doesn’t seem to care, and Jim has to lick his lips, trying not to fall into the black depths of his eyes. “You should…” he doesn’t finish, and Sebastian hisses.

Why he’d been still before, Jim doesn’t know, but he’s moving again, pushing him harder, their hips rocking together deliciously. It feels good, and he groans, unable to stop humping up against Sebastian, who seems to be equally hard, if not more. “F _-fuck,”_  he stutters, head lolling. 

Lips cover his again and he can barely taste anything but his own blood now, as their mouths rub harshly against each other, and Sebastian drags the air from his mouth like he’s sucking on a cigarette.

_‘Please,’_  he tries to beg, a sobbed sound into Sebastian’s mouth, but it’s lost in something, the haze, maybe.

There’s something buzzing just out of sight, above his head, perhaps, and he wants to latch onto that, but he can’t. Sebastian’s hands close around his neck, fingers warm, caressing him almost lovingly.

He undulates his hips, gasping as it’s returned even stronger, and there it is. There’s the thing that he can sort of recall offering Sebastian.

The fingers tighten, digging into just the right spots of skin to cut off his breathing.

He tries not to abandon the kiss, but his mouth goes slack, his jaw falling open all the way, trying to suck in air that’s not there.

His eyes drop open wide, and all he can stare at is half of Sebastian’s face. He doesn’t feel fear at this, but something else, something he can’t quite define.

Sebastian’s fingers tighten, jerking him.

His neck snaps.


End file.
